The Cottage at Pelican Bay (Nantucket Seashells #4)

Chapter 1

RYAN

Ryan stood beside his pickup truck, staring at the shattered passenger window and the brick sitting on the seat surrounded by glass shards. His hoodie was still wrapped around it, carefully positioned so they could read the note without contaminating any potential fingerprints.

The sound of tires on gravel made him look up. His father’s SUV pulled into the driveway, and Ryan watched as Mitch, Lori, and Marcus climbed out. They must have finished their operation with Sally at the coffee shop.

“What happened?” Mitch asked, his stride quickening as he took in the damage to Ryan’s truck.

“Someone threw a brick through the window while Tessa and I were inside,” Ryan said, his voice tight. “We were in your office, and we didn’t see anyone.”

“We didn’t even hear anyone driving or running away,” Tessa added. “Just Misty barking.”

Mitch reached the truck and carefully lifted the hoodie with one hand, angling the brick so he could read the note. His expression darkened as his eyes scanned the block letters.

Ryan watched his father read, then shifted his attention to Lori. Her eyes widened as she read over Mitch’s shoulder, and all the color drained from her face.

“So this is about Tessa and me,” Lori said, her voice soft but carrying a hint of distress that made Ryan’s chest tighten. “That wording has been written to clearly point to Tessa and me.”

From inside Seabird Cottage, Misty’s barking reached a frantic pitch. The German Shepherd sounded like she was throwing herself against the door.

“I’d better go let Misty out,” Lori said, already turning toward the cottage. “She’s going to hurt herself.”

“I’ll go with you,” Tessa offered, appearing at Lori’s side.

Mitch looked up from the note. “We’ll see you later for the barbecue?”

“Yes,” Lori said, though her smile was tight and didn’t reach her eyes.

“Lori…” Mitch called, stopping the women who turned and glanced back at them. “We’re going to figure this out.”

Lori gave him a tight smile and nodded. She and Tessa walked across the drive toward Seabird Cottage. Ryan watched them go, watched the way Tessa’s hand briefly touched Lori’s elbow in a gesture of comfort, watched Lori’s shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath as they reached the front door.

Anger burned in his gut, hot and fierce. These women had come here for a holiday to unwind. Lori to heal from losing her husband. And instead, they’d walked into a nightmare of surveillance and threats.

“This has to get resolved,” Ryan said, his voice coming out as more of a hiss than he’d intended.

“It will be,” Mitch said grimly.

“Sooner rather than later,” Marcus added, his sharp eyes still studying the note.

They were about to head inside when a woman’s voice called out from the road.

“Ryan! Ryan!”

Ryan froze. He knew that voice. His first instinct was actually to duck behind his father like a child hiding from an overzealous relative at a family gathering. The woman genuinely creeped him out.

He turned to see Clara pedaling her pink bicycle with the large basket in front of it, up the driveway.

“Fan of yours?” Marcus asked, one eyebrow raised as he observed Ryan’s reaction.

“Just a lonely wildlife writer,” Ryan said through clenched teeth, forcing himself to lift his hand in a wave. “Hi, Clara.”

He didn’t walk forward to meet her. He stayed exactly where he was, hoping she’d take the hint and keep her distance.

She didn’t.

“It’s so good to see you,” Clara said, climbing off her bicycle, then pushing out the stand as she balanced.

Then she reached into the basket and pulled out a tin decorated with painted flowers.

She walked toward them with an enthusiasm that made Ryan take an involuntary step back.

“I brought this tin of cookies for you. They are these delicious chocolate chips with sea salt. My favorites, and according to the tin, everyone’s favorites. ”

“Hello, Clara,” Mitch said, his voice polite but not particularly warm.

Her head snapped around as if she’d just realized that Mitch was standing there. “Oh! Hello, Mr. Brandon. I didn’t see you there.”

Ryan found that hard to believe. His father wasn’t exactly easy to miss.

“I wanted to thank Ryan again,” Clara continued, taking another step closer toward them with the tin extended. “He was such a hero this morning, rescuing all my work when the wind scattered it across the beach.”

“Actually, it was mostly Piper,” Ryan corrected, trying to edge sideways without being too obvious about it. “She was the one who really helped.”

“Yes, of course,” Clara said quickly. “These are for her, too. Please tell her thank you again from me.”

Her eyes shifted past Mitch and landed on Marcus. She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, a stiff, uncertain expression. “Hello. I’m Clara.”

“Yes, Ryan told me,” Marcus said, his tone neutral but his posture somehow conveying that he had no interest in further conversation. He glanced at Mitch. “We should go.”

Mitch nodded immediately. They both turned and walked into Sunrise House without another word, leaving Ryan alone with Clara and not bothering to introduce her to Marcus.

Ryan silently and sarcastically thanked them both for leaving him with creepy Clara.

Then he felt bad for his thoughts. No one deserved to be judged that harshly.

Clara was just eccentric and completely involved in her work with birds.

Ryan suppressed a shudder. He secretly didn’t like birds, especially any form of parrot.

Not after he was pushed into an avery as a kid as a joke by his friends.

The birds had swooped at him and pecked him…

He pushed the memory to focus on the woman in front of him, still holding out the tin of biscuits, which Ryan saw was still sealed.

Good grief, Ryan, what did you think she’d done with the cookies?

Poisoned them? He gave himself a mental shake.

He was being absurd. Clara was just a lonely wildlife writer with a strange affinity for seabirds.

Again, he had to suppress a shudder at the thought of anyone liking birds.

“Your father’s friend seems a little scary,” Clara said, watching Marcus’s retreating back.

“I guess he can be intense,” Ryan said vaguely. He deliberately didn’t offer any information about who Marcus was or why he was there.

Clara stood there for another moment, clearly hoping Ryan would elaborate. They stood in an awkward silence for a while before Ryan broke it.

“Well, I have to go,” Ryan said, accepting the tin only because refusing it would prolong the interaction. “Sorry, I’m not being rude, but I have a lot to do today.”

“Oh, of course,” Clara said, though she looked disappointed.

“Again, thank you so much for your help this morning.” She gave him another tight smile.

“You saved me from having to redo a lot of work.” Her smile seemed to get more false.

“Your fiancée is a very lucky lady. There are not many men like you left in the world.”

Ryan opened his mouth to ask what she meant by fiancée, but Clara’s attention had already shifted to his pickup truck. Her eyes widened as she noticed the shattered window for the first time.

“Oh my goodness, what happened?” Her head shot around, and her eyes were shining with questions.

“A snatch and grab on the outskirts of town,” Ryan said automatically, then immediately regretted the words. That made it sound like someone had broken into his truck to steal something, which didn’t explain all the glass.

“Here? In the driveway?” Clara’s eyes went even wider as she noticed the glass scattered on the ground.

“Oh, no,” Ryan said quickly, scrambling to adjust his story.

“That happened because I was trying to make the window a little safer before taking it in to get it fixed. You know, knock out the loose pieces so they wouldn’t fall while I was driving.

” He stepped toward it, forcing her to step back.

“Please be careful, as I still have to clean up the glass.” He looked pointedly at her sandals.

“Oh, yes.” Clara nodded, stepping back as her expression relaxed. “That’s a relief. About it having happened on the outskirts of town. For a moment, I was wondering if there was a spate of burglaries happening in this area.”

“No,” Ryan assured her firmly. “No burglaries.”

Clara looked genuinely relieved. “Well, that’s good to know.

I do sometimes worry, living alone in that cottage.

But everyone around here has been so kind and welcoming.

” She stood staring at Ryan for another few seconds before nodding.

“Let me be off. I want to get to the pools on the rocks before the tide comes in.”

Clara said her goodbyes and walked back to her bicycle. Ryan stood there with the tin of cookies in his hands, watching her leave. As she pedaled away down the driveway, he could hear her humming a tune. Something cheerful and bright that seemed oddly out of place.

For some reason, the humming made her seem even more creepy.

Ryan glanced down at his passenger window, at the glass glittering in the afternoon sun. He really did need to get it fixed today. He couldn’t drive around with a gaping hole in the side of his truck.

He turned and walked into Sunrise House, the tin of cookies still in his hands. He’d give them to Piper when she got back from camp. Or maybe he’d just throw them away. The thought of eating something from Clara gave him an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He found his father and Marcus in the home office. The file that he and Tessa had been going through was still open on the desk, crime scene photos spread across the polished wood surface.

“Was this you?” Mitch asked, pointing to the file. “Where you going through this file?”

“Yes,” Ryan said, setting the cookie tin on a bookshelf. “Tessa and I were going over a few things. Right before we heard the brick crash through my passenger window.”